Choke!
by KOALUH
Summary: "Being in a relationship should...mean something. Be more than just constant fighting. Should be more than mindless stress. And it's really pissing me off that it isn't." Stendy, eventual Style. T for language and content. StanxKyle KylexStan


**(c) KOALUH**

Howdy-hoooo. This is my first fan-fiction guuyyyzzzzz! Yayayayay! Well, at least, anything posted online, haha. Hope you like. :)

Before we begin: This story is boy/boy. In case you didn't know, lol. Nothing too racy/intimate in this story; perhaps maybe in a different one on a different day. Overall this is going to be a chilled, laid back story. If your looking for super duper kamikaze twists and oh-so-unexpected moments, drama drama drama, and the dreaded mpreg DO NOT READ. Ugh. But for you people who can enjoy a nicely flowing (although this chapter didn't flow that well...) calmer story, be my guest. Reviews are epatasmic, and I will always reply to them in new chapters ^^. But if you don't feel like leaving one, no biggy. The fact that you stopped and read this story is pretty awesome by itself :3.

Oh, and, my sincere apologies for the shortness of this chapter. It was just kinda like that. I promise 5k+ from now on. :X I know I hate when stories have such short chapters...xD...It just makes you more mad that there was so little to read and such a long time to wait for more -.-. Ahaha, I'm a hypocrite. By the way, Stan seems kinda bitchy and ooc, but alas, no worries comrades! He will be an emotional moody teenager and I will have him do as I wish :3. Muahahha. But seriously, he will be in character. This prologue is just to set the mood :].

Off topic, and irrelevant, I have a Kyle doll! YAY! I am obsessed with that boy, you have no idea :). If you want a picture I provide I provide? ;D

**Pairing:** Style, StanxKyle, KylexStan

**Date: **September 12, 2010

**Disclaimer:** Kyle Broflovski, Stan Marsh, and any other references to South Park belong to Trey Parker and Matt Stone :S sadly. Seriously, those guys are amazing. :D

Prologue.

* * *

"August 31st.

Annoying. One word to describe this feeling? Annoying. Incomprehensible. Blame Kyle for that term, but… It just really fucking sucks. Yeah, I'm over her. Definitely.

Or maybe not.

Before I begin, let me bore you a bit: what is love, hmm? Like, I get it, totally- just you know, you find the person that you just feel right with. And yeah, they have flaws, (they're human?) but you just build a bridge and get over it, because why why why would you EVER let love slip past you like that? Exactly. Love is like this little fleeting fairy, or some gay sparkling thing, that everyone just fucking wants. Like, "Dude is that love? Go catch it, dumbass!" I don't know about you, but yeah I can tootaaally picture that. Especially with Butters. Yeah, Butters would definitely chase a sparkling fairy.

Crap dude- I need to stop zoning out. Like, I think I just got kind of beyond off topic. Anyway. So. I've been dating this chick, right. Wendy Testaburger. I hate her with this burning passion, but like, we've gone out so many times, to ask how many should be a Who Wants to be a Millionaire? question. Seriously. Cause I don't even know the answer. But what I do know is if love is this fleeting fairy that makes you tingly and willing to get on one knee, then I've definitely yet to experience it. Like yeah, Wendy's my girlfriend. Was. Whatever. Same shit. But being with Wendy is like….eating McDonalds. It tastes so damn good until you gain ten pounds. Or maybe that wasn't the right analogy…Whatever. Fuck analogies. That's Kyle's shit. Either way, being with Wendy isn't fun, more like…a chore…except a chore that you can fuck every once in a while. If it's not on it's period, of course.

Ahahaha. This should be fun.

STAN MARSH. UNCENSORED. Hell yeah. I love the way that sounds.

Only catch? Proper grammar. It's all good, though, no worries. And this is my journal thing. Yeah. Journal. Not diary. Fuck that.

Back to Wendy. Don't get me wrong, there was definitely a time when I spent hours in class watching her, and if a guy took an ounce of her attention away from me, I'd flip a bitch. Not anymore though, trust me. Now it's just kind of...a relationship. It's just...there.

How to describe it...I just got off the phone with Wendy, right. And it's just, she's SO annoying. Augh. Our entire conversation consisted of her mindless bitching about me "not carrying [her] books" or going to my fourth block "without a goodbye kiss." Are you kidding me? ANNOYING ANNOYING ANNOYING ANNOYING. Damn. If Kyle were to edit this (which he won't), he'd totally piss off at me for using the word annoying more than once in a page. But that's the only word to describe her. Maybe I'll google a synonym for it. Later.

Either way, she talks to me way too much in a day. 'Hey baby, what's up? Yeah I know it's 5 a.m. just wanted to see if you were sleeping.'

WHAT THE FUCK.

'Babe, are you busy?'

Like no, maybe there was a reason I wasn't the first one to call you. Oh wait there is. Cause you're fucking annoying.

UGH. BUSY OR NOT. SHUT THE FUCK UP.

I'm sorry but when your girlfriend sends you ten texts in the course of a minute, and you're wondering how the hell she types that fast, yeah somethings wrong.

Like, I guess I kinda knew Wendy was the jealous type from the beginning. We've been going out for how long? I'd say… 7 years. On and off of course. So cut that down to like 3 full years of actual date time. Still a lot though. Damn. Stupid whore.

Okay, stop stop. I'm really misrepresenting myself here. Yeah, like hell I'm this mean socially. When you're a football player and (relatively) popular, you have to have communication skills. Which means being nice. And tolerating the nerds. Which I do (to some extent.) If I was just like 'AHAHAHA STUPID JEW' (now I **really** want Kyle to read this…) to whoever, and was still popular, I'd be that douche-y popular. Where more people hated me than loved me. And I like being loved. So this journal is pretty cool, cause now I can let out the way I really act, especially around my friends.

Now, to formally introduce myself, dearest journal.

As I mentioned, I'm Stan Marsh. I'm 17, living in South Park with my SUPER best friend Kyle, my girlfriend(?) Wendy, my buddy Kenny, and the fat-ass Cartman.

And in case some super cool people find this, years from now, to testify for the awesome things I've done in my lifetime; don't be fooled. This is a gay assignment from Mr. Garrison (Mrs.?) to get to 'better know ourselves.' Dude. We're 17. We passed the "finding yourself" phase. But whatever. I'm getting two test grades to write whatever the fuck I want, so long it's legible, and has a general topic. So, frankly, I don't give a fuck.

Anyway- the problem. Like, you might be wondering, "If Wendy is so annoying why are you going out with her?"

Valid point. She's a good fuck. "She will be Loved" - Maroon 5. Except I don't love her. But damn, you know that song is about getting laid.

Second point, I do have feelings for her. Unfortunately. Right now I'm being a bitch, but if I was in a better mood, I can't deny- I'd probably go on about how awesome of a girlfriend she is. Right now, though, I'm pissed and that's all that matters.

So feelings, yeah. Some shit just doesn't die. Like, I haven't puked around her since 6th grade; the spark that made me so nervous to say one word around her was totally gone, but for some reason I still like her. Though, I think if I went a month without her presense, I'd probably forget her name. I think. But Wendy knows how to play me right, (sometimes). I could be so pissed off at her, then just get a text from her, and I love her. I hate it. She knows the perfect shit to say. I could be thinking how I have absolutely no feelings for her, then BAM. I don't know why that is. And if that's what "love" is about, fuck that. Can you say not worth it much?

Well, I'm just saying.

Anyway, screw Wendy. Let me tell you about my best friend-

KYLE BROFLOVSKI.

If I could put that in 72 font and put glitter all over it, consider it done, but I'm pretty sure I can't. You get the point, though. Kyle is like jesus, and I love him. He's 17, and single…ladies. I wonder if I can put smiley faces on this. How cool would that be? Uncensored means uncensored, right? Then again, proper grammar also means proper grammar… Fuck.

Okay well, smileys aside: let's say…Kyle is amazing, amazing, amazing, all rolled into one big ball of super best friend powers. Seriously. I'd do anything for him, no joke. We have so many good memories. And if I ever lost him…I don't know what I'd do, man. Being completely honest with myself, I don't want to think about it. So I won't.

I just love this kid to death. If he wouldn't push me away, I'd totally molest him with hugs every time I see him. But, knowing Cartman, he'd probably call me a fag, and then Kyle would get mad, and the drama it would cause wouldn't be worth it…I think. Can't say I don't want to try, though.

Anyway, I'm tired as fuck. Peace out journal, I'll fill you with more awesomeness tomorrow.

-Stan"

Yawning, I finalize the first entry with some embellishment on my part and unnecessary flourishes to the otherwise boring composition notebook paper. Pushing the journal to the side, I slide the chair back, the feet scraping audibly against the wooden floor. Cracking my head back, and eyes yearning with sleep, I walk forward a few steps before plopping myself onto my twin sized bed.

"GOODNIGHT!" I yell loud enough so my parents hear, and get a "goodnight sweetheart" in return. I tug on the chain to my nightlight, and once enclosed in darkness it's not long before I fall asleep.

* * *

** Chapter one**: Because I Can't Stand It.

approx upload date: Sept. 19th, 2010.


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